


It Won't be Long Now

by Arachne



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Graphic Violence, M/M, Murder, Mutual Pining, basically Vanessa is Hannibal Lector with less cannibalism, like a lot of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-10 00:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11115774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arachne/pseuds/Arachne
Summary: Their machismo pride doesn't break her stride but that doesn't mean she doesn't hold grudges. Vanessa has an interesting and rather messy hobby. She likes to experiment quite a bit with the boys around the way and I don't mean just sexually. Usnavi catches on but he's more intrigued than anything else.





	It Won't be Long Now

**Author's Note:**

> Un-beta'd, largely unedited
> 
> I'm.....sorry? 
> 
> Warning for GRAPHIC SEX and GRAPHIC VIOLENCE. Basically, Vanessa murders boys for fun and pleasure?

The scent of sex hung heavy and heady in the air like a fog.

He thumbed her clit, sinking two fingers into her moist cunt. Her hips gyrated off the bed to meet his probing fingers as wanton moans fell from her dark lips. A thin sheen of sweat coated her supple curves, slicking her silky black hair against her forehead and shoulders. Her hand worked the pebbled nipple of one pert breast while the other bit into the damp sheets at her side. An impassioned scream rose unbidden from her as his forefinger drove into her G-spot, her cunt clenching deliciously on the intrusion. Her toes curled.

“Good,” she moaned as she lurched up from the bed, his fingers still working inside of her. He faltered a bit as her manicured hands met his shoulder but kept a steady pace. “Very good,” her moist breath curled against his ear, sending a shiver down his naked spine. His prick strained purple against his taut stomach, a bead of precome dribbling at the tip. She nipped his earlobe, shifting to run a red stained nail along the vein of his shaft, delighting at the little hitch in his breath. Her lips hovered at the corner of his mouth, not quite meeting his own, as she continued to run her nail of her right index finger up the contours of his belly and chest, pausing to tweak his nipple. Her left hand trailed up from his shoulder, thumb curling around the shell of his ear, sharp nails coming to rest against the nape of his neck. 

“Mm, babe, keep going,” she said, humping against his stilling fingers as her right hand joined the left at his neck, cupping the edge of his jaw. She placed a light kiss at the seam of his parted lips and tightened her grip on his jaw. He quickened pace and she felt a wave of pleasure crash over her nerves, deafening her momentarily. Her cunt pulsated as his fingers, soaked with her juices, slipped from inside her and came to rest on her naked thigh.

“That good?” he said with a smirk, thrusting his hips and aching cock toward her, blunt fingers kneading the supple curve of her bare ass.  
She panted, breath coming out in giddy huffs. She licked her lips. 

“Ay, you have no idea.” 

Her hands stiffened at the nape of his neck, shoulders tensing. She twisted his neck in a swift, smooth motion, expecting to hear a satisfying crack. 

“Oy! Bitch! What the fuck!” He threw his hands up and pushed her down onto the mattress. His dick was flagging and his face was red. He looked pissed.

“Damn,” she whispered to herself as he rose from the bed, standing, and turned away from her supine body. “I really thought that would work.” 

“Puta Loca! I’m getting the fuck outta here!” He yelled, dodging down the snatch his crumpled jeans from the floor. 

As he crouched, she launched herself onto his back, winding her arms around his of his throat, legs coming to rest loosely around his hips, wet cunt pressed into the column of his spine. He yelped at the sudden weight, staggering back toward the bed. His fingers scrambled at her arms for purchase. 

“Fuck,” she cursed, arms sliding into a headlock as his bitten nails scratched at her arms. He gagged against her, choked breaths issuing from his parted lips as drool and tears mingled down his chin. He threw his shoulders back but the added weight of her nude body caused them both to topple backward onto the mattress which creaked violently at the sudden weight, headboard clapping against the thin walls with a loud crack! She gasped as his head landed against her chest, knocking the wind out of her. 

He turned on her, his larger body pinning her to the mattress, face contorted in a deep frown, eyes wide and manic, teeth clenched. Left hand still braced against the mattress, holding up his sagging body, he pulled his right arm back, shaking hand balled into a loose fist, and let it collide with the orbit of her eye. She bit her painted lip to muffle a scream, blood mixing with red lipstick. He pulled his arm back again, fist clenched tightly – more confident – and began to wail on her, peppering red marks across her chest and stomach with every punch. She sucked in a breath, clenching her jaw against the onslaught, and crossed her arms in front of her to protect her face from further damage. 

Shuttering her eyes, she kneed up with a growl, catching him in his exposed groin. He groaned loudly, curling into himself, and his right hand flew down to cup his pained scrotum. 

Seizing the moment of opportunity, she crawled backward out from underneath him until her nude back was pressed firmly against the headboard. His head snapped up at the movement, wide eyes tracking her form as she outstretched an arm toward her bedside table, her hard brown eyes boring into his. Her fingers came to rest around the familiar cool metal and cheap plastic of the switch blade she kept with her at all times for protection. She paused a moment. He stared. Her hand jerked from the knife, instead finding purchase on the thick white electrical cord of her old, cheap alarm clock. In a swift motion, she yanked the cord from the wall. 

He started toward her, hand still firmly planted around his aching balls. She dodged him, hauling the cord – alarm clock still attached – along with her, whipping around his crouched body. Stumbling a bit on the landing, she shakily stood beside the bed as he flopped prone on the mattress in a failed bodyslam. She smirked, snapping the cord in her hands, heavy clock dangling from one end. 

As he moved to regain his composure, she leaped back onto the mattress, knees straddling his hips, course pubes of her cunt scraping against his ass. She formed the cord into some facsimile of a noose, conking the clock against his neck and temple, and wrapped it around his neck as he tried in vain to throw her off. 

His face was rapidly turning purple as his fingers cut into his neck in an attempt to get hold of the cord. She tightened her grip, arms quivering under the strain, fingers reddening as the cord nipped into her flesh. She threw herself back, laying flat against his flailing legs, digging the cord further into the column of his throat. He gurgled, choking and sputtering. He yanked his head forward but she did not loosen her grip in the slightest, instead redoubling her efforts.

His eyes rolled back in his head. He sagged and his flailing ceased, save a few unconscious spasms which kicked through his body. She let the chord slack, alarm clock clunking softly upon the crumpled sheets, and let out a sigh of relief. She laid in the afterglow for a minute, panting to catch her breath as she rubbed circulation back into her fingertips before she staggering back up into the seated position, still straddling his prostrate body. 

She crawled up his back, crouched and ready to fight at a moment’s notice. The fingers of her right hand curled around his pulse point as her left cupped his nose and mouth. Nothing. 

She let out a loud whoop as her room shakes, headboard smashing once again against the thin walls. The elevated train shrieked past.

“Vanessa! What was that!?” the voice of her mother came slurred slightly with booze. 

“Nothing Mami!” Vanessa returned, eyes downcast, fingers clenching into the soft flesh of her dead bed partner’s shoulders. 

“You sure? It sounded like there was someone there with you!” 

Vanessa bit her lip before yelling back. 

“’S nothing, Mami, go back to bed.” 

There’s a crash from the room over. Her mother must have passed out again. Vanessa swore, deciding it would be best to check on her later. After all, right now – she grabbed the dead man's hand, frowning – there is work to be done. 

She stretched, arching her back and crossing her wrists over her head. She rose from the bed, padding over to her discarded clothing. She riffled through it, fishing out a small black notebook with a Bic pen tucked in the spiral. She flipped to the most recent entry, tutting as she crossed out the words "Break his neck like in the movies? "

Heaving a sigh, she replaced the pen and tossed the notebook back onto her piled and crumpled clothes. She turned about, legs spread, fingers sped across her naked hips and smiled at her handiwork. Clean up can be fun too, she supposed.

**Author's Note:**

> Right now this is just a oneshot but I have plans on writing a long fic with this premise. So if you are interested in this concept please leave kudos/comments. Thanks!


End file.
